


The Founders

by Nuuhtella



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Hogwarts Founders - Freeform, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 09:58:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7263364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuuhtella/pseuds/Nuuhtella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the tale of the four who started it all. The one who was daring,the one who was kind, the one who was clever, and the one who had the most ambition. We know how it ended and we know what they achieved. So where best to start other than at the very beginning? *I do not own any of the characters in this story, they belong to J.K. Rowling and her affiliates*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The sunlight filtered down through the lush, green leaves that hung upon the magnificent oak sitting in the middle of the beautiful, large meadow. Only the sounds of the warm summer’s breeze running through the grass and the twittering of the birds high up in the forest trees could be heard for miles around. A small stream ran along the edge of the great forest and twisted deep into its depths, passing by a village that stood among the outskirts of a grand stone castle on the other side of the dense trees. It was here, in the Fens of England, that a legend was born.  It was he who would go on to be remembered as one of the most brilliant wizards of his age. Salazar Slytherin.    

On this particular day the Lady of the castle, Alfrida Slytherin, was enjoying the blissful sunshine by taking a pleasant ride through the vast lands of the Fens. She was widely known to be the most beautiful maiden in England, to look upon her face was a pleasure all in itself. Her eyes were said to be as blue as sapphires and her hair as white as snow which fell down past her waist. There was not a man who met her that had not asked for her hand. It was surprising, then, when she finally said yes to one man, the Lord of the castle, Eamon Slytherin. He was a man who caused men to tremble in their boots and women to squirm with pleasure whenever in their presence.  

The villagers, for one, were no strangers to their Lord and Lady’s natural charms and liked them immensely.  However, the Slytherins had one secret that nobody in the muggle world could ever know of. They two hailed from the most prestigious wizarding families of the time and were both purveyors of immense magical powers. Unfortunately, during this time witches and wizards may not have been as thoroughly persecuted as they then would be few centuries later but magic was still feared and held no place in the world. Due to this many witches and wizards masqueraded as members of prominent muggle noble families for hundreds of years and the Slytherins were the greatest of them all.

Enjoying the sunshine with the Lady Alfrida was her good life-long friend Hilda, daughter of Gunther the Giant killer who was known as the greatest wizarding warrior of his time. A pretty maiden with beautiful golden locks that curled in perfect ringlets towards the ends and beautiful brown coloured eyes in which it were too easy to get lost. In the muggle world she was a nobody but in the wizarding world she was famed for her outstanding dulling ability. The two witches had been inseparable since their childhood and their two sons were just the same.

“Salazar,” Alfrida called to her six year old boy as he dismounted from his pony, “don’t go too far.”

“We won’t,” the boy called back, a sly smile upon his lips.

The two boys barrelled across the field, their five younger siblings unsuccessfully chasing after them. Alfrida and Hilda laughed with each other, both dismounting their own horses. They two strolled a short distance along the tree line of the forest, catching up on the current events of the world with their children’s laughter filling their ears. It had been a long six months since they had seen each other last and much had changed.

“I have some news,” Hilda announced.

“What is it, my friend?” Alfrida laughed, “Speak quickly for I cannot wait much longer.”

“I am with child again,” admitted Hilda, her cheeks glowing with delight.

“Oh, my dear Hilda,” Alfrida began, giving her friend a warm hug, “I am so overjoyed for you, really.”

“Thank you, Randolf and I are immensely happy.”

“How far along are you?”

“Only a few months, though I think it may be a boy,” replied Hilda, her eyes wide with wonder.

“I’m sure it will be,” Alfrida smiled, “Though you do already have one healthy boy, at least.”

“Yes, and two beautiful girls,” Hilda laughed, “I feel blessed for them all.”

“As you should,” replied Alfrida, “Though, does this mean you will no longer be able to partake in the grand duelling competition?”

“Alas, it does,” Hilda answered, “I would not risk my unborn child for anything, whether boy or girl.”

For a moment the two women contemplated their surroundings, drinking in the glorious sunlight. Whilst she stood in that spot, thinking of her children and how lucky she was in live, Alfrida couldn’t help but wonder of the future and what it would hold.

Without any warning Hilda let go of Alfrida’s arm and gave her a great push, causing her to fall to the ground. Alfrida made a grab for Hilda but was not quick enough. Giggling, the two women raced back to their horses just as they had when they were children without any cares in the world. Quickly they both mounted their gorgeous steeds.

“Salazar,” Alfrida called a second time to her son, “Round up your brothers and ride back to the Keep with us.”

“Alright mother,” a small shout came from behind the large oak tree.

“You too, Godric,” Hilda called to her son.

“Yes mother,” the small boy called back, coercing his sisters back onto their ponies.

The joyful group made their way back towards the castle, unbeknownst to them that two of the greatest wizards of their age were riding within their midst. Two childhood friends, Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin.


	2. The Meadow

The beautiful and familiar meadow was as tranquil as ever on the glorious summer's day. A gorgeous doe and her young fawn were lightly drinking water from the stream, sheltered from the heat by the trees above. Suddenly, a noise from the forest startled the new mother and she called out to her fawn to follow her as they fled the scene. Just as the two of them disappeared through the bushes on the opposite side of the meadow, two horses and their riders hurtled through the gap in the dense trees. They raced cheering and laughing across the length of the meadow, around the small clump of bushes, and back towards the magnificent oak that had stood in the centre of the meadow for hundreds of years. The two young men dismounted and the taller of the two threw himself down onto the grass, resting under the shade of the tree. The other folded himself next to his friend as they allowed their horses to rest and graze for a while.

It was clear from the latter's clothing that he was a very high-born lad. Silver and golden rings inlaid with large, multi-coloured gems adorned his fingers and the collar of his navy blue tunic was woven with gold thread. He had piercing, grey eyes framed by long, light lashes and hair whiter than snow that flowed down in waves to his refined shoulders. His face was extremely handsome with both of his cheek bones well defined and hollowed out while his lips were plump and inviting. There was often a mischievous look upon his angelic face that would make you wonder whether or not he was half demon. His slightly taller friend seemed like a giant in comparison. This large young man was wearing clothes that were notably less fine though clearly nowhere near poor. His rich, auburn coloured hair twisted in small ringlet around his boyish face that did not match his large, burly body. He had brown eyes so dark in shade they almost looked black, though they were the warmest and most inviting eyes anyone would ever see. This boy was also extremely handsome but in a completely different way to his friend, they seemed to be complete opposites of one another.

Both of these young men seemed to be enjoying the blissful heatwave that was so unusual to their country. The auburn haired youth took a deep swig of wine from his leather skin and passed it to his friend. His snowy haired friend smirked and took it gladly, drinking deeply and smacking his lips before handing it back. After popping the cork back into the top of his wineskin and propping it against the old oak tree, the auburn haired boy laid face-up on the grass with his eyes closed and after just a second of hesitation the snowy haired boy joined him. For a few minutes the two boys lay on the ground, soaking up the sun in silence before the curly-haired boy broke it with a loud and throaty chuckle.

"What on earth are you laughing at, Godric?" the snowy haired boy asked his friend, turning his head slightly towards him.

"I was remembering our night in the tavern two nights ago," the boy called Godric replied with a huge grin stretching across his face, "and that muggle wench you took a fancy to."

"How dare you! Suggest that I, Salazar Eamon Slytherin, would ever tarry with a muggle," he replied, sitting up abruptly. A hint of a smile plagued his face as he continued, "Was she visually appealing? Most definitely. Yet I would not dare stoop that low, my friend."

"You only say that because of that beast of a fiancé of hers," Godric laughed.

"There is no way I would ever be afraid of a mere muggle," Salazar sniffed.

"He was bigger than even me!"

"Just because you were afraid, Godric, doesn't mean I was," Salazar replied, wiggling his pale eyebrows in defiance.

Instead of rising to the bait, Godric merely doubled over in laughter at his very serious friend. After a moment Salazar joined him and the two boys rolled around, unable to control themselves. Before Salazar had the time to compose himself, his friend pounced and Godric held him in a tight headlock. In retaliation, Salazar managed to flip Godric onto his back and that released his hold on his neck enabling him to break free. After a few more minutes of this playful fighting the two of them fell about laughing again and taking even deeper swigs of Godric's wine.

"Ah, that's the sweetest wine I have ever tasted," Salazar exclaimed, smacking his lips in appreciation.

"The only thing the French are good for," Godric replied, "wine." The two boys laughed and sipped the wineskin again in turn.

"I have something to show you," said Salazar while passing the wineskin to Godric, "my father gave it to me this morning." Getting up from the ground Salazar walked over to his horse and retrieved an object covered in an ornate piece of fabric and brought it back over to where they were sitting. Slowly unwrapping the folds of cloth, Salazar showed Godric the object beneath. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Underneath the ornate fabric was a beautiful, silver dagger with a gorgeous, golden hilt inlaid with heavy dark gems of varying shades of brown, blue, and black. It was sheathed in casing almost identical to the hilt and was the most beautiful knife either of them had ever seen. Unmistakably engraved on the silver of the dagger was the Slytherin coat of arms, intricate and faint. Godric's eyes opened in wonder as he looked upon the dagger and his face beamed as he fully appreciated the piece of weaponry.

"It's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," said Godric in awe.

"Even more beautiful than the tavern wench?" Salazar smirked.

"Far, far, far more beautiful than the tavern wench," Godric replied as Salazar guffawed, "Goblin made?"

"That's what my father told me," said Salazar, a hint of bitterness in his tone. Godric looked up at his friend with knowing eyes.

"Want to talk about it?" asked Godric.

"No."

The two of them sat quietly for a while, Godric still examining the blade. Salazar seemed to be lost in his thoughts and Godric knew that he did not want to be disturbed. He knew that his friend loved his father dearly, yet he also knew that Eamon Slytherin was one of the most formidable men he had ever met. His temper was legendary throughout the kingdoms and he was highly respected in all of the European courts.  _It's a shame,_ Godric thought,  _that he does not spend very much time at home with his family._ Godric almost pitied the man but he would never admit to pitying his friend. Salazar was far too proud for that.

"Will you be entering the tournament?" Salazar finally broke their silence.

"Definitely," Godric grinned, "are you?"

"Of course," replied Salazar, smirking, "I can hardly wait to beat you."

"You may have to keep dreaming for that," Godric answered with a wink. The two boys laughed again, Godric jabbing Salazar lightly with his fist.

"You'll need more than brawn to win, friend."

"I'll still have the advantage on you."

"Doubtful," Salazar laughed, "Will you be entering the duelling competition this year, also?"

"My mother wants me to…" Godric trailed off.

"But?" Salazar pushed him.

"But I'm not sure whether I'm ready," he finally admitted.

"You are ready, Godric. I know you can win it. You are the son of Hilda Gryffindor after all."

"That's true," Godric replied moodily.

"If you need help practicing I would offer my services," offered Salazar.

"You would?" Godric asked, surprise flittered across his face.

"That is what friends are for, after all," Salazar smirked.

Godric let out a huge cheer and rushed at his friend, grabbing Salazar in a tight bear-like hug. As soon as he was free, Salazar whipped his wand from his belt but Godric was quicker. He had disarmed Salazar in a heartbeat and cast the body-binding curse on him in the next instant. After a moment, Godric stood over his friend and Salazar looked upwards in defiance. He could see Godric's taunting look in his eyes and felt slightly humiliated and humbled. In the next instant, Godric had taken the curse away and helped Salazar up, handing him his wand, while laughing the entire time at his friend's annoyed expression.

"I think you were right," Godric boomed, throwing his arm around Salazar's shoulders.

"About what?" Salazar asked, slightly cold.

"There is no chance anybody will beat me if even you can't." Thawing, Salazar laughed and Godric joined in. They didn't stop until they saw the grey clouds moving in overhead and the two of them climbed back onto their horses and rode back to the Slytherin's castle slightly disgruntled.

"Probably for the best," Godric smiled as they crossed the small stream.

"Why is that?" asked Salazar, slightly confused by the change in his friend's attitude.

"You're guest are arriving today, remember," Godric replied, a full grin plastered on his face. Salazar groaned in response.

"I completely forgot that they were arriving today," said Salazar moodily, "Of all the things I do not want to do, entertaining her is probably first on the list."

"Even before eating your horses shit?"

"Perhaps second then." Again they laughed and that mischievous look twinkled in Salazar's eyes. "Race you back to the castle."

Without waiting for a response Salazar was off, leaving Godric behind in his wake. Without looking back he cantered off into the forest, determined to beat his friend.


End file.
